Two days had passed. Tithrandil wrapped his daughter in a blanket and brought her to the Palace of Greenwood. As the trade advisor to the Sindarin king Thranduil, he was obliged to inform the king of her birth and to, if necessary, dedicate her to the service of her king be it as a councillor, healer, or simple help of some sort. Wherever her skill took her is what she would be.
Crossing the stone bridge before the doors, he could see Prince Legolas sitting in one of the balconies with a few of his friends and a few female admirers. Tithrandil smiled remembering what it was like to be his age. Legolas had just reached the age of 948. Still young by elven standards, but oddly late for marriage. Legolas had not chosen a bride at fifty or at one hundred, nor did he seem interested, much to his father's dismay. He reached the gates and was admitted by the sentries who spoke the magic words to the great stone doors and they opened. He walked passed the tall ornately carved pillars of the first court, passing other elves, some he knew and some he didn't. He finally arrived at the throne room door and was admitted there with no difficulty as well.
Thranduil sat on his wooden throne, a crown of twined ivy on his head looking over some reports that a scout had brought him earlier. He looked up at the sound of the doors opening and smiled at his trade advisor.
"Well met, Tithrandil my friend!" he said as he rose to hug his friend.
"Well met, my lord. You are in high spirits today."
"Yes." the king smiled. "My son's hunting party returned and here listed is the body count of orcs and spiders from outside the wood. Quite a staggering number today."
Thranduil heard a soft coo and finally looked upon the infant in his trade advisor's arms. A gentle and kind expression filled his face and he reached for the infant. Tithrandil did not begrudge his king the privilege of holding the newborn. Thranduil cradled the infant against his chest, letting it grasp his finger.
"A strong grip! This one has a will to it! What is the child's name?" Thranduil asked.
"Anariel." her father answered.
"Anariel. A beautiful name for sure, but confusing. Her hair is dark."
"My wife chose her name. She meant it more as a metaphor than for her appearance."
"Ah." Thranduil answered as he smiled at the infant girl. His smile was rewarded with a giggle and a smile back. He laughed softly.
"Your wife was not to far off from appearance for your daughter already has a smile that could shame the sun!"
"I have brought her to dedicate to your service should you need her."
Thranduil looked up from the baby's smiling face and regarded the father.
"Always so quick to business." he sighed, but smiled still.
"Well then, what type of training did you have in mind for your daughter? Lady-in-waiting? Scribe? Healer? Councillor?"
"Warrior." Tithrandil replied. The kings brow knit with questioning.
"A warrior? Your child is a daughter, not a son."
"Never the less. I think she would make a fine warrior."
Thranduil sighed. This would be difficult. Once his trade advisor had something in his mind, it was well nigh impossible to talk him out of it. Members of the court could swear that the Silvan advisor and the Sindarin king were brothers separated at birth. One as stubborn as the other.
"Tithrandil. I only accept sons into my military. Daughters are defenders and pillars of the home. If you wish for her to become a healer and so join my forces that way then so be it. But I will not send your daughter up against the horrors that I am reluctant to send my own son against every day!"Thranduil explained .
"She is Silvan! It is in her blood to fight! She will be able to track and hunt just as well if not better than the others. She could be invaluable to you one day!" Tithrandil argued, his tone rising a little with each word.
Thranduil was quickly losing his patience with his advisor. Was he so eager to see his only child die at the hands of orcs or the fangs of spiders?
"Tithrandil, did you not hear a word I have spoken? I will not send your only daughter against the horror outside of these woods or any combat situations for her own sake, Silvan blood in her veins or not!"
Tithrandil placed Anariel-who by this time was beginning to fuss and wriggle uncomfortably at the sound of her father arguing with the king- on the floor a little ways away from the throne so that he could argue his point without having to try and control her squirming. The arguing started again, more insistent and a bit louder than the first time, progressing into a full blown shouting match that could be heard down several hallways. All knew that when king and councillor were at it, it was best to stay away from both until they were tired of butting heads and resolved their argument. Those that heard did just that. Except Legolas.
He could hear the shouting from the balcony on which he sat with now just his friends, as the female admirers had been called away by their mothers, and left them to see what was amiss. As he got closer he could hear and infant screaming along with the fight. Legolas ignored the warnings from members of the court and entered the room to take the infant away for a while so that at least it could be saved from the racket.
He lifted the little one into his arms from off the cold floor and held her close. She stopped crying almost immediately. Thranduil had caught site of his son and turned to him to demand an explanation.
"She was crying." he said, casting an annoyed glare at the pair of arguing elves. He turned and left the room. The arguing resumed shortly thereafter. The baby began to fuss again.
"Ah, shh shh shh little one. We will go somewhere where you can sleep and we both will not have to listen to them." he said smiling gently at her. The infant pouted and still moaned a little. Legolas held her closer to his chest, soothing her. He made a quick stop at the kitchen to get some milk for the baby thinking she was hungry. The queen's sister, a tall and slight blonde elf named Elwen, turned as he entered the room.
"Legolas! How was your hunt today?"
"It went well. Many of our enemies were slain. At this rate they will all be dead before they even get close to the woods." he said as he looked around for anything he could use to feed the young one who was growing fussier by the moment in his arms. Elwen tilted her head to one side.
"Tithrandil's daughter?" she asked.
"She is. He left her laying on that cold floor while he and my father argued. About what I do not know and will not likely want to know."
"He wants his daughter to be a soldier. Your father thinks she would better serve somewhere other than the battlefield." she informed him.
"Either one is good."
"You know your father."
"Yes, I know. He always said that the women of our kind where the four pillars of the house and the only ones who could heal the best and seemed to give the wisest council. But I personally would not mind one who was not afraid to fight. One who wouldn't run with her arms flailing and shrieking like an owl gone mad every time she caught a glimpse of a spider of an orc."
Elwen laughed. "You always had strange tastes, Legolas."
Anariel began to cry again. Elwen drew closer and took the infant into her arms.
"She's hungry and she needs to be changed. I will change her. The feeding skins are over there." she said pointing toward a large closet and left momentarily with the baby.
He filed the skin with fresh warm milk and awaited the return of his aunt and the infant.
I wonder what her name is, he thought. Elwen returned, the infant in seemingly a better mood than when they left. The baby turned as best she could in Elwen's arms and cooed happily upon seeing Legolas.
"You have another female admirer, Legolas!" she laughed. She brought Anariel back to Legolas's arms and he took her close to himself again, almost protectively.
"I had the displeasure of needing to cross the hall near your father's chambers and I over heard her name. Anariel."
Legolas looked down at the feeding elfling in his arms who was looking up at him. He smiled and repeated her name softly to himself. Anariel soon finished drinking and after being properly burped by Elwen, began to yawn.
"I'll take her some place to sleep." Legolas offered.
"Where?" she asked.
"My room." he replied simply.
"Legolas, she's too young." his aunt smirked.
Legolas only made a face and gathered his charge into his arms and brought her to his room. He wrapped his soft green wool cape around the baby and lay her on his bed. He lay beside her, his arm cradling her small body, talking softly to her and singing to her occasionally until Anariel fell asleep. He stroked her face tenderly, gazing adoringly at her.
His heart felt unexplainably warm and light. It also began to ache slightly. He smiled a small smile as he continued to gaze adoringly at the slumbering infant.
Though something deep within him called to this child, he could not put a name to the feeling. He did, however, know then and there that he would do anything he could to protect her. The infant yawned and continued to slumber after she smacked her lips a few times. Legolas's smile widened as he lay his head down next to her and drifted into reverie.